One Week Without Magic
by ilovedraco45
Summary: When Ron loses a bet to Malfoy, he has to live for one week...without magic.
1. Financial Opportunities?

One Week Without Magic

One Week Without Magic

Disclaimer: What, you think I could come up with this stuff?

Author's Note: I was looking through a past version of this and I just…wow. I'm doing some _massive_ editing, (aka starting from scratch and putting stuff in), and hopefully this version will be much better!

Chapter 1 – Financial Opportunities?

Ron Weasley was starving. It had been a stressful morning in seventh-year Potions, and he was ready to unwind with some lunch. His idea of unwinding, however, was to grab a chicken leg, a pile of mashed potatoes, a goblet of pumpkin juice, and some bread and to shove it all in his face as fast as he could. _Ahhhh_. That was better.

"How is it that you weigh what you do?" Hermione Granger asked half in awe, half in disgust, as she sat down daintily between him and Harry Potter.

"Magic," Ron said through a mouthful of potatoes, grinning. Hermione rolled her eyes and took some food.

Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister, sat down across the table from them, having just come from Muggle Studies. "Hey guys," she said, serving herself. "Professor Burbage was in a really good mood today, and she spent the whole class teaching us about Muggle card games. She spent like a half hour going on about one called _poker_. Have you two ever heard of that?" she asked Harry and Hermione.

Harry had heard of it but never played it, as the Dursleys liked to discourage him from doing anything that might be fun, but Hermione could remember playing it one summer. "It's like playing cards for money," she said, going on to describe it in great detail.

Ron was very interested in the idea of free money. "Teach me to play, Hermione!" he pleaded.

"I guess I could," Hermione mused. "I'd probably have time to this weekend." Ron looked extremely pleased and excited.

After lunch, they all split up – Hermione to Arithmancy, Ginny to Charms, and Harry and Ron to a free period. In between doing a long essay for Professor Snape, doing Transfiguration work, and just zoning out, Ron obsessed about the financial opportunities that poker presented. But Harry, remembering Aunt Petunia's friend Yvonne's downward spiral into nothingness after she discovered online gambling, could tell Ron firsthand about the downsides of poker. "Ron, do you know why the prizes offered for poker are so high?" he asked. Ron shook his head. "Because nobody ever wins them," Harry explained. "If everyone won, the prizes would be much lower. I've heard stories about plenty of Muggles that have lost thousands and thousands of pounds playing poker. Trust me Ron; you don't want to get too carried away."

"What's a _pound_?" Ron asked, confused.

"A pound is a type of Muggle money," Harry explained. "Remember the 50-pence piece my aunt and uncle gave me in our first year?" Ron laughed, remembering the bizarre shape and drawings on the coin. "Seriously Ron, don't get too carried away with this. Remember what happened the last time someone in your family gambled?" Ron did remember all too well the time that Fred and George had bet all their savings with Ludo Bagman and he paid them in leprechaun gold, which of course vanished the next morning. He shuddered, thinking about losing all his savings, and Harry returned to his essay, satisfied that Ron wouldn't go completely wild over poker.

That evening, Hermione was doing her Arithmancy homework in front of the fireplace when Harry tapped her on the shoulder. "You forgot to tell Ron about the downsides of poker," he warned, not unkindly.

"Oh, God!" she shrieked, slapping her forehead. Visions ran through her head of Ron, unwashed and unshaved, living in a cardboard box in Diagon Alley and holding a sign that said "Galleons Appreciated, Jobs Accepted". "Did you tell him?"

"Luckily," Harry reassured. "He was making some pretty big plans." Hermione shuddered, imagining not only how much trouble Ron would be in when he lost all his money, but also the mood he would be in when he realized that he'd lost all his money.

"Thank God you were there!" she murmured, shuddering one last time before returning to her homework.

That weekend, Hermione was as good as her word. "You can play almost any card game for money," she said, sitting across from Ron at a table in the common room, shuffling a deck of ordinary playing cards. "But my friends and I always played Texas Hold 'Em poker." When both Ron and Harry looked confused, she added, "It's really popular in America. The way to play Texas Hold'em is each person is dealt one card, then another. Both cards are face down. After each person receives their cards, the betting begins. This is called the Pre – Flop." She went on to explain the Flop, Turn, River, and Showdown. Then they played a game, betting for elf hats. ("But you don't get to destroy them!" warned Hermione.) Several weeks of hard work, about 50 elf hats, and 10 Galleons later, Ron could play adequately – that is, he could play without losing all of his money, and mostly because Hermione took pity on him and went easy.

A couple days before the Christmas Holidays, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking through the seventh-floor corridor when they heard a large commotion in an unused classroom. Stepping inside, they saw Malfoy sitting behind a folding table and a single chair, with a sign over his head that read POKER TOURNAMENT, DECEMBER 23. "Surprised to see you playing a _Muggle_ game, Malfoy," Harry spat. "Not afraid of dirtying your blood?"

"Anything involving winning money is fine by me, Potter," Malfoy retorted. "Any takers?"

Ron sauntered up to the table. "I'll play," he said, ignoring Harry and Hermione's frantic head-shakings and hissed "_no!_"'s.

Malfoy snorted. "_You'll _play, Weasel-bee? You think you can _beat_ me? I bet you don't even have money to bet with! Your family splurged on some food this year, I heard." Ron turned purple and spluttered. "Okay Weasley, I'll take pity on you. There's no money. Instead, whoever wins has to live for one week…without magic."

"You're on," Ron snarled.


	2. Surprise!

Chapter 2 – Surprise

Chapter 2 – Surprise!

Author's Note: Sorry this is so short! The next chapter is on it's way very soon, I promise!

After the game, the three Gryffindors headed back to their tower. "You tried your best," Hermione reassured, squeezing her shoulder.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ron grumbled. His game against Malfoy had been an abysmal failure, and Harry and Hermione had watched, grimacing and fidgeting nervously, as Ron had botched Flop, Turn, River, and Showdown, left to deal for one week without magic. Upon reaching the common room, Ron mumbled that he was tired and trudged up to the boys' dormitory, leaving Harry and Hermione to contemplate the sort of things that Ron could do without magic. Harry still hadn't forgotten the time that Ron had called him at home, and Hermione was remembering a particularly catastrophic incident where Ron had been at her house and discovered her mother's computer and Instant Messaging. Tech support had been in an uproar, and by the time Hermione had had the good sense to shut the computer down, Ron had almost acquired a cyber girlfriend that was really a man.

"His week starts tomorrow," Harry said to the fire. "I know I should be worried about him, but this is going to be _hilarious._ We'll just have to keep him away from Malfoy." Hermione nodded, and they both went up to bed.


	3. The Sewing Kit and the Washboard

Chapter 3 – Day One: The Sewing Kit and the Washboard

Harry woke the next morning to the sound of ripping cloth, and put on his glasses. Ron was standing by his trunk, looking livid. "Ripped my robe," he grumbled, holding up his robe and a detached sleeve.

"So use a Repair Spell," Harry yawned. "Wait, you can't, your week starts today!"

"That's bollocks," Ron said. "_Reparo!_" But instead of mending his sleeve, there was a blast like a gun and Malfoy's voice came floating out his wand.

"_Nice try, Weasel! You think I wouldn't have thought of that? Enjoy your week…or not!"_

"Come on," Harry said, trying desperately not to laugh. "We'll go over to Hermione, she'll know what to do."

When they reached the girls' dormitory, Hermione found the situation equally hilarious. "Okay," she said when she could speak without breaking into giggles. "Here's how you fix your robe. You're going to sew it." When Ron just looked at her blankly, she handed him a needle and some black thread. "You pull the needle in and out of the cloth, and the thread sews it up," she explained, showing him. "I'm sorry we don't have a sewing machine. Actually…I really don't want to see you take on a sewing machine so perhaps this is better. I guess you should get to it." Ron sulked and balked, but eventually was sewing his sleeve haphazardly back onto his robe.

"Ouch!" he snapped. "I pricked my finger!" At this point, Harry and Hermione were standing in the corner, clutching their sides and shaking with silent mirth, but they knew better than to actually laugh from the look on his face. At long last, his sleeve was "sewn" back onto his robe and they headed to breakfast.

At breakfast, Ron was reaching for a plate of sausages when he felt something cold dribbling down his back. He whirled around and saw Crabbe standing behind him with an empty glass of pumpkin juice. "Bad luck, Weasel," Crabbe grunted. Ron rolled his eyes, went for the sausages and – _riiiiiip._

"_Really?_" exclaimed Ron, exasperated. His sleeve was dangling off his forearm into his oatmeal, and the rest of his robe was dripping with pumpkin juice. "What do Muggles do when they need to wash clothes?" he asked Harry and Hermione, dreading what crazy task he would be forced to do next.

"Well…Muggles have washing machines and dryers," Hermione explained.

"Do they ever," Harry grumbled, thinking back to countless loads of laundry he had done for the Dursleys.

"But your mum does the laundry by hand, doesn't she?" Hermione asked, and Ron nodded. "Come on, let's go find someone to ask about laundry services."

The three Gryffindors trekked down to the kitchens and let themselves in. "Harry Potter, sir!" squeaked Dobby the house-elf. "What can Dobby do for you, sir?"

"Ron needs his robes to repaired," Harry said, smiling fondly at the elf. "Do you have a washboard?"

"Dobby will take care of Mr. Wheezy's robes! It would be Dobby's highest honor to help Harry Potter's friends!"

"No, Dobby," Hermione stated firmly. "Ron will wash his own robes. You should take a break."

"But Her_mione_-" Ron began to whine, but Hermione cut him off.

"SLAVE LABOR!" And that was how Ron ended up bent over a washboard, pruning his hands as his robe became steeped in pink, bubbly detergent.

A/N: I don't really like how this fic is going so far. I think I'm going to make it so that Ron and Harry go back to the Grangers' for Christmas. Just think of all the crazy stuff that will happen when Ron discovers the refrigerator, blender, vacuum, and other appliances! This will probably become a more Christmas-y fic.


	4. The Invitation

Chapter 4: The Invitation

A/N: Not DH compatible, obviously. Also, Dumbledore isn't dead. Watch for a shout-out to a very special reader in this chapter!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling probably has central air…

A wet and bedraggled group was the group that staggered back into the Great Hall to finish what breakfast they could. Ron grumbled, examining his pruned fingers, and Hermione was casting the hot air spell over the three of them. After he had finished washing his robes, Ron had stood up, said, "Finally!" rather loudly, and immediately tripped over his own feet, dunking his head in the water and upending the washbasin, covering Harry and Hermione in warm, soapy water.

A large tawny owl was waiting for them as they sat down and Ron reached for a piece of toast. Upon seeing Hermione, the owl dropped a letter on her plate and took off. Not recognizing the owl, Hermione tore open the letter, frowning, and found a message from her mother scrawled on the piece of parchment in it. _Dear Hermione,_ it read. _I know it's a bit late notice, but how would you and your friends like to come back to our house for Christmas this year? You can all Apparate, right? I would love to have you home for Christmas for the first time in awhile. Please send your reply as quickly as possible – your father tried to catch an owl to send you the letter and was bitten. We're on our way to the doctor. Love, Mum._

Grinning, Hermione showed Harry and Ron the letter, both of whom warmed to the idea instantly. Hermione even invited Ginny along, seeing as how she and Harry had been together since September. They secured the necessary permissions from Dumbledore and McGonagall and sent their reply agreeing to the plan with the biting owl, along with some of Eeylop's Owl Antiseptic and a note to Mr. Granger reassuring him that magical owls were not rabid. At sundown, the four friends walked to just outside the gates of the school where two Aurors Apparated (or, in Ginny's case, Side-Along-Apparated), with them to the Granger residence in the town of Spahr-on-Sea.

***

As Hermione's body re-expanded, she smiled fondly at the scene around her. She, Ginny, Harry and Ron had all Apparated into a grove of evergreen trees behind the Granger house and, taking in a deep breath, she recognized the familiar smells of cedar, salt, mud flats, and rain. With a series of _pops_, Harry, Ginny and the Aurors appeared out of thin air beside her. No one appeared to be splinched, but her head count was off. Where was Ron? "Have you guys seen Ron?" she asked, and all four wizards shook their heads. "Ron!" she called out, when she heard a twig snap.

Whirling around, she trained her wand upon…a weasel? "Oh no," Hermione muttered to herself before the weasel opened its mouth and began to speak in Malfoy's voice.

"I'm a little weasel, and I'm too much of a prat to even hold up my side of a bet!" The weasel continued to shout insults about Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Gryffindor tower, Muggles, Muggle-borns, and even managed to make some extremely lewd comments about McGonagall and Madam Hooch before Hermione managed to find a countercurse. Muttering a complicated-sounding incantation, she waved her wand at the weasel, who was Transfigured back into Ron with a bang and a puff of bright green smoke. Furious and with burning ears, Ron shuffled to the back of the group while Harry and Ginny roared with laughter.

"All right, you three," Hermione said, silencing their mirth. "You're about to go into my house and meet members of my extended family, members of my extended family who do not know I'm a witch. So with that in mind, here is the cover story I've been feeding them for seven years: I've been accepted to the Collins Academy for Boys and Girls, which is a school up near Glasgow. You three need to act like Muggles, all right? No loud exclamations over Muggle appliances or foods," she finished with a pointed look at the Weasleys. Satisfied that everyone would behave as they should, Hermione led the group to her back door. "Thank you, we'll take it from here," she said to the Aurors, who nodded and promptly Disapparated. Raising a gloved fist, Hermione knocked three times on the green, wooden door.

A/N: Okay, so I feel terrible. My first update in MONTHS and it's less than a page!!! Ridiculous! Well, I've set up the next part of the story, at least. Expect longer chapters to come, I mean it this time!!!


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